Tied Up In Knots

  
Duncan had been reaching out to me. Maybe he’d been reaching out all along, but over the last few weeks I started really noticing it. The little things he’d do for me, making me put my feet up after work, while he got me a glass of wine, and then he’d remove my heels and massage my feet one at a time kneading his calloused fingers into the sore spots of my heels and toes. He spoiled me with romantic dinners and always held the door for me. He’d stroke my hair till I fell asleep and make a special point to get up with me so I’d have a fresh cup of coffee before I left for work. I never thought I could trust another man after what Patrick had done to me, but here Duncan was doing everything right.
 
I figured Duncan would be home soon from his meeting at the UC. I wanted to surprise him, reach out to him for a change. I took the afternoon off of work. OK, Claire insisted, but I liked the idea. I bought us lunch from the deli that he likes so much and used the key he gave me that morning to let myself in. I nearly panicked when he’d given it to me, but he insisted he wasn’t trying to push me, that he just wanted me to have access to his place whenever I needed it. “I just think we’re past the knocking phase,” he had explained simply and he was right. Still I must have looked like a deer caught in the headlights, and now I wanted him to know that I was over the shock of it all, not only by accepting the key, but actually putting it to use. It seems like a silly little thing, but it was a big step for me, and I knew Duncan would understand that. I set up our lunch on the kitchen table. I blushed realizing I’d never look at that kitchen table the same way again after we’d gone to town on it. I was just pouring us some wine, when there was a knock on the door.
 
It felt odd to be in Duncan’s place alone, and answer the door. I wasn’t even sure I should open it, was it my place to open his door? Would I have answered the phone if it rang? No, probably not. I only had the key for 6 hours, would answering his door be out of line? I figured I was thinking too much and made my way to the door, just before another round of loud knocking. “Duncs, open up! I hear you in there.” It was a voice I vaguely recognized but couldn’t quite place, but whoever it was sounded kind of pissed off. I finally reached out and opened the door. Leaning against the door frame was Brent Seabrook.
 
Brent was Duncan's best friend, I knew him from the Hawks functions I'd been to with Patrick. He’d always been friendly, cordial I guess, the way you’d treat your teammate’s wife. I hadn't seen him all summer, and I didn't know if he even knew about Duncan and I. We’d never really discussed what we’d tell people or when. Brent hovering in the door way caught me by surprise and I gasped a bit as I greeted him.
 
"Lydia." he exclaimed, "Why am I not surprised to find you here?" His tone was short, borderline nasty.
 
"I was just…" I wasn't a good liar and I didn't want to be the one to tell him about Duncan and I.
 
"Oh I know why you're here," he snapped.
 
"Brent, I…"
 
"Save it. Save it for Duncan or Patrick or whoever you're fucking these days." Maybe I was naive of me to think that there wouldn't be a backlash against me being with Duncan, but it hadn't occurred to me. Patrick had cheated on me. Everyone of the Hawks players knew it. So I was taken aback by his nasty tone and look of disgust on his face. "Where's Duncan?" he asked as he stepped past me into the apartment.
 
"He…he's not home yet."
 
He looked past the breakfast bar and into the kitchen to see the lunch I'd set out for Duncan and I. "Got some hot lunch plan with my boy Duncs? Planning a little afternoon delight? Feed him and then fuck him?"
 
He was making me feel like a dirty tramp. Maybe he was right, maybe I was no better than any puck slut that waits for the boys after their games. I mean I had just jumped from the bed of one hockey player into another’s. "No. I just brought him lunch. You know what though, I'm gonna go. Feel free to stay and wait for him. Enjoy the lunch." I didn't wait for him to respond, quickly grabbing my purse from the chair and walking out the door. My romantic afternoon with Duncan, my attempt to reach out to him was ruined by his best friend. His best friend who obviously hated me, who obviously hated the idea of us together. I wasn't ready for adversity, well at least not more than I was already getting from Patrick.
 
**** Duncan's POV
 
I walked into my apartment and noticed my refrigerator door hanging wide open, someone was on the other side of the door digging through it. There were two distinct possibilities, someone broke in and I was about to kick some ass, or Lydia had decided to use the key I forced on her that morning. Assuming a burglar would not be rooting through my stainless steel Sub Zero refrigerator, I couldn’t hold back my enthusiasm. I dashed into the kitchen and pulled back the refrigerator door to see…SEABS! “What the Fuck Seabrook?!” I was disappointed beyond belief that it wasn’t Lydie and a bit embarrassed that I’d almost assaulted the ass of my best friend.
 
“Duncs, glad to see you finally made it home.”
 
“Seabrook, how the hell did you get in my place?”
 
“You had a guest that let me in.”
 
“A guest?”
 
“Your girlfriend, lover, significant other. What are you calling each other?”
 
I looked around the kitchen and notice that lunch was set out on the table complete with glasses of white wine. Not exactly something Seabrook would do. “Just call her Lydia, Ok? We don’t need to put a title on it. Where is she?”
 
“Oh, she left.”
 
“She left? She brought lunch and just left?”
 
“I think she sensed I needed to talk to you…alone. You took off after the meeting so fast, I didn’t get a chance to stop you.”
 
I couldn’t hide the smile on my face. She was here, and she had brought me lunch. I couldn't deny that it meat something, but I didn’t understand or like his explanation for her departure. “We could have talked later, what’s so fucking important?”
 
“What are you doing man?" He started in on me. "What are you doing with Sharpie’s wife? We talked about this. You told me you were just looking out for him. How could you do this?”
 
“Are you seriously judging me right now Seabs? Seriously? He cheated on her. He fucked around. Not that I owe you an explanation, I don’t owe anybody an explanation, least of all that piece of shit that calls himself her husband.”
 
“He’s your teammate. Your fucking teammate. You need to stop this now, before it gets out of hand. You need to end this, whatever it is. It needs to stop.”
 
I couldn’t hide the anger that was building up inside me. It hadn’t gone away completely from Patrick that morning, that one punch was not enough and now my supposed best friend was telling me to give up the one woman I’d ever felt a connection to. “Fuck you Seabrook. Fuck you! I’m not stopping anything.”
 
“It’s not good for the team Duncs. Do you know how much drama this is going to cause? It’s going to be like that fucking Flyers shit with Hartnell’s wife. Is that what you want? She’s not good for you.”
 
“First of all this is nothing like those brainless fucks in Philadelphia. Second of all, how would you know how good she is for me?”
 
“Come on Duncan. You’re getting all wrapped up over a fuck. She’s Patrick’s wife. You need to get over this weird obsession you have with her and let her go back to her husband. Find someone else to play around with.”
 
I couldn’t control my rage and I lunged toward my larger defense partner grabbing the front of his shirt and twisting it. “Talk about her like that again and we're going to go. Do you understand me?" My voice was quite, but harsh. "And she is never, never[/] going back to that son of a bitch." I let go of his shirt, giving him a little shove and walked across the kitchen to look at what Lydia had set out on the table. What a waste, the food, the wine, the opportunity. She'd never done anything like that, it was always me making the move. This was a big step for her. I clenched my fists mad as hell that my friend’s presence made her leave.
 
“Duncan.” Brent’s voice had calmed and there was no authority lingering that was so prevalent before, a much smarter approach with me and my pissed off mood. “What’s going on with you? What’s going on between you and Lydia? This is obviously more than just a good time.”
 
I pulled my hat from my head and ran my hand through my hair. How could I explain it? What was going on? I turned to face my best friend, I didn’t expect that he’d be able to find his answer without me saying a word, but he did.
 
“You love her don’t you?” he asked softly. I didn’t answer, not because I didn’t know the answer. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to discuss it with him. He pulled the stool out from the bar and sat down. “I can see it on your face.” He took a deep breath, a sigh really, like he felt bad for me, pitied me. “How does she feel about you?”
 
So that was really the hard question to answer, wasn’t it. Maybe I deserved his pity. I really was in a sorry situation, one that was looking up though, until Seabrook waltzed his ass in here. Still she was coming to me now; she was giving herself little by little. We’d come so far from that first night, but I couldn’t escape the obvious. “She still loves her husband.” It didn’t quite answer the question, but it was the one thing I knew was true.
 
“But she’s what you want?” he asked sympathetically.
 
I pondered the question for a moment before I answered. “Yes.” There was no need for further explanation, she's all that I wanted.
 
****
 
I hadn’t been to Lydia’s place before, not for any particular reason that I knew of. We just always ended up at my place. It was close to her work and just seemed more convenient. I hadn’t called her first before I took though Central Chicago; I didn’t want to give her the chance to turn me down. Seabs had both confessed and apologized for being a royal bastard to her, and promised to make it right when he saw her again. I was terrified at how she was feeling, if he’d pushed her away from me, but I wasn’t going to wait to find out. I was going to let her know that I’m in this 100%, that even if my best friend didn’t change his tune, even if he was dead set against my relationship with her, I wasn’t going give her up.
 
I pulled up to the town house complex and took in my surroundings. I felt a bit uncomfortable, not for myself, but for Lydie, who was living in an area that didn’t look or feel safe. I took a deep breath and made my way to the door.  It flung open and before me was a site to behold. Lydie wore a short silk robe that hung open, a thin white silk camisole that revealed the outline and dark peaks of her perky little breasts, and a pair of lace boy shorts. I shut my eyes tightly for just a moment trying to burn the image into my brain and ignore the twitch between my legs. “Duncan!” She said, maybe a little too enthusiastically, not the response I was expecting. She lunged for me, grabbing me around the neck and kissing me urgently. The taste of alcohol was unmistakable as her tongue filled my mouth greedily.
 
“Whoa, whoa. You’ve been drinking baby?" I backed her away from me slightly and looked past her to the coffee table. There was a wine glass, two bottles of wine, one laying on its side obviously empty and the other that must have recently been opened.
 
She giggled like a school girl and sauntered over to her glass. She closed her eyes and let her tongue drag slowly and seductively across the rim. Then she lifted her dark eyes and peered at me through those long luscious eyelashes as she sipped the dark red liquid. It took everything in my power not to throw her down and fuck her right there on the coffee table, make her scream my name and dig her nails into my back. She was drunk, and the last thing I wanted to do is take advantage of her or the situation. “Maybe you’ve had enough.” I said matter-of-factly, trying to convince her without being pushy.
 
She set her glass down on the table and came back to where I was standing. She brushed her body against mine and I could feel her rock hard nipples hit my chest through my t-shirt as she leaned up on her tip toes. Her breath hit my ear as she spoke “You can’t have too much of a good thing Duncan Keith. I thought you of all people would know that.” The tip of her tongue swiped my ear and that was all I could take. I lifted her straight up and her legs wrapped around my waist. She let out another drunken giggle, just as my mouth devoured hers. It wasn’t the right thing to do, throwing her down on the couch, spreading her legs, eating her out until she begged me to fuck her, then slamming into her with reckless abandon. It wasn't like me, but I literally couldn’t help myself. She lost all her inhibitions in her drunken state, whispering dirty things and telling me what made her feel good. Then she let her fingers wander to a place no woman had ever touched me, applying just the right amount of pressure, at just the right time. I came so hard and quick that my knees shook and I let out a long drawn out “Fuck…Lyd…Fuck”as I came inside her, thanking God for birth control. It was the best orgasm I’d had in my entire life. Once I regained my senses, I felt this amazing affection for her. I couldn't stop kissing her neck and her ears, along her jaw bone. The taste of her salty post sex skin coupled with the taste of the wine that still lingered on her lips made me want to devour her. Yet strangely, it wasn't about sex, at least the act, because for maybe the first time in my life there was no way I was ready for another go-round. My affection for her made her giggle and squirm, but I just held on to her tighter and lavished her with kisses that got softer until she passed out in my arms. I didn’t regret our love making despite her intoxicated state. Fuck, it was the best sex I ever had, how could I regret that. I just hoped Lydia would remember it the next day, how good we were together. I wanted her to remember that feeling.

Around three in the morning I woke up to an empty bed. It’s not the first time it happened, that I’d woken up to find Lydie alone huddled into a ball in a different room. This time seemed different somehow. Her body wasn't rocking with uncontrollable sobs, there were no soft whimpers. She was just silent, staring out the window with her knees pulled into her chest. "Lydie," I called to her softly. "Are you Ok?" I expected this to be another Patrick moment, where I'd have to chase away the demons left behind from her two timing ex-husband, but that's not what I got. "Am I a slut Duncan?" she asked, catching me off guard? I noticed her cheeks streaked with tears.

"What'?" I asked not believing what she'd asked.

"A slut, a whore, is that what I am?"

"Lydia." I sighed and pulled her into my lap. "Why would you even ask me that?"

"What makes me better than those women that bounce from player to player? What makes me better than the blond that fucked my husband?"

I turned her toward me taking her face in my hands and wiped her tears with the pads of my thumbs. She was in tears, yes, but not hysterical like most nights that I'd find her. "You slept with Patrick, and you married him. You slept with me and we're together. How does that make you a slut? Wait…are you sleeping with Kaner?" I teased, something I didn't do often, and prayed it would lighten her mood. I was in luck, she let out a little laugh. "Just so I'm making myself clear, you are not a slut. Nothing about you or the decisions you've made or the people you've been with makes you that way. Why are you asking me this? Is it because of Seabrook?"

"He looked at me that way Duncan. Like I'm a whore, like I was filthy. The way every guy on that team is going to look at me when they find out about us." I never wanted to hurt Lydia, and I hate that I made her cry, even if it wasn't my fault exactly, but I'm not going to lie, knowing she was upset about me and not her good for nothing ex, gave me a tremendous feeling of accomplishment, I was breaking through.

I pulled her in close to me. "I don't give a fuck what the team thinks Lydia or anyone else for that matter, but I think you're wrong. Most of the guys think what Sharpie did to you was wrong. When they see us together, really together, they'll get it. Seabrook is a different story. His problem has nothing to do with you directly. He's my best friend. I'd never told him about us and it caught him off guard. He just didn't get it and I think at some fucked up level he was trying to protect me. If it makes you feel any better, he's sorry for the way he treated you. He told me to tell you that. I would have told you that when I came in, but I was a little distracted." I smiled down at her and kissed her lips softly.

"It was good distracted though, yeah?" she asked between our soft kisses.

"Good? I don't think good begins to describe it. I don't have words Lydia, except to say that you are amazing and you do things for me that no one has ever done. I love you." She snuggled into the crook of my neck. I'm a grown man, a hockey player. I like to think I'm strong, tough, but the way she softly rubbed her hands over my bare chest sent shivers up my spine. Just her light touch made me weak in the knees. I knew right then that she had the power to completely break me. Like David and Goliath, if she wanted to she could bring me to my knees, make me a blubbering idiot. I just prayed that it would never come to that.